


My Fault

by SuperRedRobin (SweetFanfics)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen, Guilt, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/SuperRedRobin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can’t remember the sound of the shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this edit](http://assguard.tumblr.com/post/18334564072) by Mina

He can’t remember the sound of the shot.  
  


But he does remember the sound of it ripping through Tim’s flesh. The pained yell that Tim had let out. The sound of him falling to the floor, like a broken doll.  
  


As he sits outside the operating room, the symphony of his mistakes echoes inside his head. The wet sound of broken flesh, the broken cries of pain merge together with the sight of Tim’s pale face…and red blood.  
  


Kon has to cover his mouth, forcing himself not to cough as the nausea rises. The smell of blood had been so sudden and potent that it had made him seize up. Everything around him had gone quiet at that moment. He couldn’t hear the yells of the scared crowd or the one man yelling for an ambulance. All he could hear was the quiet wheeze of Tim’s breath. And the trickle of blood that was rapidly spreading underneath Tim.   
  


He isn’t sure what had jerked him out of his stasis but he had snapped into action. After quickly scooping Tim up in his arms, he had flown him to the nearest hospital. Praying desperately during the flight as Tim’s blood seeped into his shirt, making it cling stickily to his abs. After half crashing into the ER, the rest of his memories were a bit of a blur.   
  


A mix of different faces and yelling and being told that he couldn’t go into the operating room…So he sat outside the double doors and waited. He sat on the uncomfortable plastic chair, hands clasped tightly between his open legs as he focused his entire attention to the man inside the room.  
  


He listened to the heart beat, weak yet steady. He counted his breathes, inhale and exhale. He tried not to listen to the snips and cuts but heard them he did. The thought of Tim being under the knife made his stomach roil and want to throw up its entire contents. So he tried again and again to focus just on the heart beat and the breathing.  
  


Roughly five thousand breathes later, Kon noted that the cutting noises had stopped. Relief made his shoulders sag and he turned a stiff neck up towards the door, anticipating the doctors to come out. Soft voices drifted into his hearing.  
  


“…nothing else we can do?”  
  


“The damage is too severe. Even if he wakes up, he won’t ever be able to walk again.”  
  


He couldn’t feel his fingers as he stared at the door, a sudden cold chilling him down to the bone. They couldn’t mean Tim…they couldn’t…  
  


“There was just too much nerve damage…there’s nothing we can do.” A tired sigh. “Have we managed to contact his family yet?”  
  


“Superboy is waiting outside. I think he mentioned knowing Mr.Drake personally.”  
  


“I suppose I’ll go tell him the news then.”  
  


He is still staring at the doors when they open. His vision is slightly blurry as he watches the doctor come to halt. He can’t see the startled expression on the man’s face. Or the way it shifts into something akin to understanding as he walks over to stand in front of him.  
  


“I suppose you over heard us.”  
  


Kon nods miserably, hands covering his face. He’s surprised to realize that his cheeks are wet. A slow swipe of fingers wipe the tears away as he mutters miserably, “This is my fault.”  
  


The doctors words flow over his head, like water off a duck’s back. Kon just sits there, head and heart hurting as his words rattle around in his head.  
  


_‘My fault…it’s my fault…it’s my fault…’_


End file.
